The Libertine
through dark and dingy lanes
i walked dazed in a dreamlike state
on a path filled with dirty desires
the air of filth stuck in my veins
is the end of you the end of dreams?
and the end of silent haunting screams?
the fire in my heart is now cold ashes
you could twist, burn, swallow the hours
but my love is not a victim of your charms
only a slave of my virtues and my sins
in a tender moment do i seek salvation?
or am i poet with a skill for deception?
bring me a point which is a start
not the end of a hollow wounded past
maybe a covert glance or a secret sign
stripped bare to the beginning of time
was the wait, hope draped in a silver line?
the moments yours and the pain mine?
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Poetry
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